Another Point Of View
by Wisteria666
Summary: A look at a simple mission gone wrong, from the point of view of a very put-upon cook.
1. Chapter 1

"Alright people, listen up!"

Major Perry, Commander of the Mess and everything else she deemed within her purview, strode into the kitchen. I set aside the knife I was using to chop shallots, and brushed the sweat off my brow. The kitchen, as usual, was damn near a sauna, and all of us were sweating profusely despite tossing our regulation uniform tops in a pile near the door. Major Perry looked over our disheveled state and shook her head, but said nothing. She'd been after the brains to fix the ventilation, but there was always something else 'more urgent' for them to fiddle with. Honestly, it took us threatening their coffee supply before they got around to routing enough power to work all the food stations.

"Okay, I have a few announcements," the Major continued when she saw she had our full attention. "First off, the Athosians on base are grumbling that we're not making enough of their dishes. Fix that. We could do with fewer tater tots and more tuttle root soup. If anyone complains, and they will, tell them to take it up with Teyla. If they dare. Second, the next scheduled resupply from Earth is in three weeks, so go easy on the things we can't source locally. Finally, I need a volunteer to check on the experimental vegetable garden we planted several months back on M2S-489. You'll be accompanying Colonel Sheppard's team."

The kitchen was suddenly filled with people doing their very best to look anywhere but at the Major.

"Is there a problem?" she asked, sounding genuinely bewildered at the lack of enthusiasm. Bless her heart. There were a few mumbles from the crowd.

"This is an opportunity to go off world," she exclaimed. "Normally I'd be beating you all back with a stick! Now what is the issue here?"

"Ain't none of us want to die!" someone called from the back. Murmurs of agreement followed.

"What are you talking about?" Major Perry asked, fists on ample hips. She may look like everybody's favorite community college pottery teacher, but the woman's all military when riled.

"Colonel Sheppard's a great leader, I'm sure," one of the patissiers piped up. "Thing is, he doesn't have the greatest track record with non-team members."

Major Perry looked around the kitchen at all the nodding heads, and blinked.

"Nonsense," she said. "He's a very conscientious leader. It is simply that he takes on more difficult missions than most."

"With all due respect," I chimed in. "Going on a mission with Sheppard's team, you might as well be wearing a red shirt."

"I don't even know what that means," the Major said, exasperated now. "This isn't a mission. Colonel Sheppard's team merely has a few minor tasks at an alpha site, and we're tagging along. Now, volunteers." She looked around her still unwilling staff, and sighed. "Fine. Findley. You're it." I groaned silently. "You've gone through the food plant safety program at SGC. Meet the Colonel and his team at the gate room at 0600." She smiled nastily. "And don't forget your red shirt." She turned on her heel and marched out.

"Well, I'm screwed," I muttered. My stationmate, Deb, reached over and scooped my shallots into her skillet.

"I talked to Chuck earlier," she said. "Sheppard's team is doing environmental readings and light recon there."

"You mean the anointed ones have been reduced to data collection and guard duty at an unspoiled alpha site? Why ever for?"

"Apparently they've been through some pretty rough missions lately, and Woolsey feels they need a break."

"They must be so tired," I simpered. "The poor little lambs!"

"Fin, you're such a bitch!" Deb giggled.

"And you love it," I grinned, reaching for a fresh bunch of sort-of carrots.

Now, here's the deal. I don't have a problem with Sheppard or his team, for the most part. Maybe they're a little cliqueish, and Dr McKay is a pain in the ass with all his dietary demands, which we mostly ignore, but they seem okay. Thing is, they're considered the Golden Children of the base. The stunts they've gotten away with over the years are astounding, as are the lengths the command will go to pull their asses out of the fire. The problem comes in when not every other team gets that same support. There are dozens of men who are still listed as MIA, and bodies never recovered from where they fell, but if Sheppard or any of his people disappear, it's red alert, all teams go until they're rescued, and damn the collateral damage. And to be totally honest, every time a soldier falls to the Wraith, there's always a friend or a lover who looks over the flag draped casket toward Sheppard with just the tiniest hint of accusation. Do I sound bitter? Maybe I am, just a little, but I've been here on Atlantis from the beginning. These past years haven't been easy on any of us.

I finished up my duties early, grabbed a bite to eat, and ran up to my quarters. I looked around my room for the gear I'd need; portable plant database, testing kits, utility knife, water bottle, digital camera. We'd be back before dark, so I wouldn't need much else. I looked at the free space in my pack, and after a moment, I touched my earpiece.

"Chuck? Fin here. Could you locate Dr. Zelenka for me?"

I met Sheppard and his team at the gate room at the ungodly hour of 0600. I could hear Dr. McKay's well known whine from across the large room.

"Why can't we take a puddle jumper? It would be a lot faster if we did."

"The site is only two kilometers from the gate," Sheppard said. "There's no reason to take a puddle jumper."

"Well, ever since I got shot in the ass by an arrow, I've been prone to sciatica."

"Rodney, that was like four years ago!" Sheppard replied, sounding exasperated now. "Let it go!"

"The walk is a very short and pleasant one," Teyla interjected gently.

"Really?" McKay said doubtfully.

"'Sides," Ronon added. "You could use the exercise. You look like you've put on a few pounds."

"I have not!" McKay protested shrilly. "I am exactly the same weight I've always been! Just because some of us don't look like the cover of a Robert E. Howard novel doesn't mean we've been gaining weight!"

Seriously? I was going to have spend all day listening to this?

Sheppard caught sight of me, and his face lit up.

"And this must be our charming travel companion. I'm John Sheppard."

"Findley, sir. Fin."

"Well, uh, Fin, this is Dr. Rodney McKay, Teyla Emmagen, and Ronon Dex." He motioned to the others. Teyla smiled warmly, Ronon nodded curtly, and McKay ignored me, fixated on his tablet.

"We've met," Teyla laughed. "How are you, Fin?"

"Doing well, Ma'am, really looking forward to this trip," I lied.

"Oh, you know each other?" Sheppard said, surprised. "I don't think I've seen you before. You new to the Pegasus galaxy?"

"I arrived here with your team, sir."

"Oh, when we returned a few months back, then."

"Six years ago, sir. Original expedition"

"Oh. Um. Well, then." The tips of his ears turned red. Anyone ever notice he has pointed ears? Next we'll find out he's half elf, or something. It would explain the ridiculous amount of luck the man has. "I'm a little groggy this morning. Haven't had my coffee. I'm sure we've met at some point. In the, um, past six years."

"Of course, sir." Jackass.

"You been off world before?" Ronon grunted.

"Yes. I was on the team of botanists and support staff who planned and planted the patch."

"Good," he said. "Then you know to stay near us and keep your head down if there's trouble."

"There's not gonna be any trouble," Sheppard interjected. "This is just a stroll in the park, a little data gathering, and a picnic in the grass. Right, Fin?"

"Got the blanket in my pack, sir."

"Boring," Ronon muttered. Hasn't anyone bothered doing something about this dude's testosterone levels?

"Alright," Sheppard said, ignoring Ronon's last remark. "Let's head on out."

In front of us, the gate activated with a liquid whoosh, and we stepped through the blue glow, and on to another planet.


	2. Chapter 2

M2S-489 is one of those gorgeous, foresty planets that look like something out of a fantasy geek's wet dream. Big, towering almost-pines, wide meadows filled with wild flowers, majestic blue mountains in the distance. Dr. Lee from SGC pays us support staff a bounty for every set of pictures we send him. We're happy to do so, because the guy's real, you know? Well, that and the money's good.

Anyway, the planet is damn near perfect. The soil's great, it rains frequently enough that water's not an issue, and there're no man-eating monsters that we can't handle. I mean, there's some sort of freaky snake-lamprey thing that will attach itself to its prey and burrow its way through the flesh as it eats, but that makes a distinctive grinding sound before it strikes, so it's easy to avoid. There's also a massive meat-eating plant that uses its vines to snag prey, but it smells like decomposing flesh, so anyone with any sort of working olfactory sense can avoid it.

The stargate is located in the middle of one of those perfect meadows, and I could feel my spirits lift as I looked around. The air was crystal clear, and the morning sunlight was warm on my skin. Behind me, McKay began to slap at his arms.

"Are there mosquitos here? I think there are mosquitos here!"

"Does the Pegasus galaxy even have mosquitos?" Sheppard asked.

"I don't know, but something's biting me!"

I pulled a stick of insect repellant from one of my numerous pockets and handed it to McKay.

"Oh hey, thanks," he said happily, rubbing it vigorously over his arms and face. He glared at Sheppard. "At least someone here is prepared!"

"You didn't bring any either," Sheppard pointed out.

""Well I couldn't. I used the last of it on M2S-338 last week. Remember, that planet with all the swamps?"

"How could I forget?" Sheppard groaned. "I didn't know alligators could get that big."

"Pretty good eating, though," Ronon rumbled.

"They really were," McKay agreed. He turned to me. "Hey Fin, you think if we brought one back, you guys could cook it up?"

"Yeah, so long as you bring it back already filleted," I replied. "The last time one of the teams brought back something for us to prepare, it wasn't totally dead, just biding it's time. Took us ages to get all of Peters out of the vents." Still haven't found his left foot.

We passed through the meadow and entered the forest. Sheppard, Teyla, and Ronon grew silent and watchful. The leaves formed a thick canopy overhead, and the soft mulch underfoot deadened any sound we made, giving the place an eerie, surreal feel. The hairs on my arms stood on end. I had been there before, and I didn't remember the place being to spooky. Even McKay shut up, glancing around nervously. I think we all breathed a sigh of relief when we stepped out of the trees and into the small valley where the patch is located. Well, maybe not Ronon, but then I'm pretty sure there's something just not right about that guy, no matter how delicious a slab of man-meat he is. Seriously, those muscles? And those abs? Ahem. Moving on...

As I said, the valley's small, maybe a kilometer long and almost as wide, surrounded by be steep forested hills on two sides, the treeline behind us, and a sheer drop-off at the far end. A narrow stream ran through the middle, providing clear, fresh water. Sheppard looked around appreciatively.

"If I had known about this place, I'd have skipped my last vacation to Vancouver, and just come here instead," he said. "Perfect place for a few rounds of golf."

Teyla smiled and rolled her eyes. Sheppard's golf obsession is well known.

"Stupid sport," Ronon said. "What's the point of hitting little balls around with a stick?"

"See, you're just not getting the subtleties of the game," Sheppard argued. "It takes skill."

"Yeah, whatever." How does Teyla put up with this every day without screaming?

"God, I'm starving," McKay said. "They replaced the tater tots with some sort of root soup this morning, so all I had was eggs and sausage. Are we almost there?"

I opened another pocket and handed McKay a stick of string cheese. He took it eagerly.

"Thanks!" he said around a mouthful of cheese. _Thank you, Radek, _I thought_. I swear if you get me through this without going homicidal on McKay, kolaches will be on the menu every damn day for a month._

"So what exactly are we doing here?" Ronon asked.

"We're retrieving data from the sensors Major Lorne's team planted last year," Teyla answered. "We're also supposed to be taking environmental readings and testing the soil and water for any trace contaminants."

"We're also looking for any sign of ozone depletion and global warming," Sheppard added.

"I wouldn't mind a little global warming here," McKay said, rubbing his arms. "It's really nippy here. I should have brought a thicker jacket. I'm susceptible to chest colds. God, I thought I caught pneumonia after Tunney's stupid presentation. I just heard from him. He tried trademarking the term 'freeze lightning', and is upset that I registered it first. Can you believe the nerve of- Hey, thanks!"

"Don't mention it," I muttered as he took a bite of the candy bar I had handed him. Ronon dropped back to walk beside me.

"You're feeding him to get him to shut up, aren't you?" he chuckled. Ah, so the big guy has some brains to go with that brawn. Who would have suspected?

"Dr. Zelenka made the suggestion," I admitted. Ronon grinned, then eyed my pack.

"Do you have any-" he began. I handed him a small packet.

"Peppered beef jerky," I said. "Radek mentioned you developed a taste for it on Earth."

"I'll have to have Sheppard bring you along more often."

"Rather you didn't."

We reached the vegetable patch, and I dropped my pack. Teyla and Ronon headed to the eastern border to find the sensors, while Sheppard and McKay went west. I pulled out my testing kit, and spent the next several hours taking samples from each vegetable and running them against the data stored in my tablet, looking for any sign of toxins or genetic mutations. Apparently a patch on another planet developed vegetables capable of defending themselves when threatened. Little Shop of Horrors was referenced in the report.

"How's it going?" Sheppard asked from behind me. I squeaked and jumped slightly, nearly dropping my tablet.

"Just going over the preliminary test results," I said, clinging to the tattered shreds of my dignity. "Everything checks out normal, except for this small inconsistency here." I pointed to the chart on my screen. Sheppard leaned over and peered at the data, then shrugged.

"Anything we need to worry about?" he asked.

"Well, it's not a toxin," I hedged. "The results are reading as safe for consumption. I just won't know exactly what this anomaly is until I get the data and the samples to the botany department. Once they clear it, we can start growing more of the produce Atlantis needs here."

"Great," he said. "You ready for lunch? McKay claims his blood sugar is low. Again."

The five of us settled into the grass a few yards away from the patch and pulled out our MREs. It's been years since I tasted one, and I still had nightmares about the experience. The label reading 'Soy beef and creamed spinach' did nothing to assuage my fears. McKay and Ronon looked equally dubious.

"You got anything to make these taste better, Fin?" Sheppard asked, staring at his packet in disgust.

"There is nothing in the universe that will make that cheese-and-tofu-omelet-in-a-bag palatable, sir."

Ronon's eyes narrowed, and he stood quickly. Without a word, he loped away to a small stand of trees.

"Where's he off to?" Sheppard asked.

"His Roney senses must be tingling," McKay grumbled. "Who the hell thought up chicken loaf and peas?"

A loud grinding sound came from the tree stand, followed by the sound of Ronon's energy pistol going off.

"You okay there, Ronon?" Sheppard called. Ronon emerged, holding the limp body of a headless lamprey-snake.

"Got better food," he called back. "They don't taste like much, but they're better than those things."

Ronon strode back to us, and tossed the snake in front of us.

"Dig in," he offered, lowering himself to the grass. He slit open the skin, exposing white flesh.

"I'm not sure that's much better, buddy," Sheppard said, looking ill. "Any suggestions from the cook?"

"I can probably to something with that," I said, pulling a collapsible bowl from my pack. "Dr. McKay, would you be so kind as to grab me a tomato and an onion from the patch?"

I scooped the meat into the bowl, and as soon as McKay's back was turned, I doused it with lemon juice and Tabasco.

"You carry lemon juice and hot sauce with you?" Ronon asked.

"For just this sort of situation." When travelling to distant planet, it is important to know where your lemon juice and hot sauce are. And your towel.

"I may be wrong," Teyla said, with the inflection of one who knows she isn't, "but isn't Rodney allergic to citrus?"

"Nope," I said. "Just grapefruits. We've been adding citrus to everything for years. Dr. Beckett is big on vitamin C."

"Are you sure?" Sheppard asked.

"Major Perry got Dr Beckett the First extremely drunk and swiped Dr. McKay's medical record. We're very sure. Just grapefruit." Which was a real relief. Accommodating allergies is fine. Hypochondria, not so much. "Say nothing, and there will be brats and beer next week."

McKay came back with the vegetables, and I quickly diced them and added them to the meat. A bit of cilantro from my samples, and we had alien snake-thing ceviche, which was a hell of a lot better than those MRE abominations.

"Doesn't ceviche have lemon in it?" McKay asked, his mouth full.

"Nope," I lied.

After lunch we packed up and began the walk back to the gate. It was mid afternoon at this point, and the shadows were beginning to lengthen. The woods were colder than they should have been, and I shivered as we made our way through. There was something dangerous in these woods, at least according to that ancient sixth sense that told our ancestors that a sabre-tooth tiger was about to make kitty chow out of them. The upside was, we were so on edge that we heard the gate activate before we reached the treeline.

"Stay here," Ronon said quietly, putting a massive paw on my shoulder. McKay stopped beside me, and we watched Ronon, Teyla, and Sheppard creep over to the edge of the meadow. They stood hidden in the shadows for several minutes, then rejoined us.

"Looks like there's going to be trouble after all," Sheppard said ruefully. "We've got a full tribe of Bola Kai warriors between us and the gate."

See? This here! This here is why I didn't want to come!


	3. Chapter 3

"Alright, what's the plan?" Ronon asked.

"We stick to the trees," Sheppard replied. "We make for the ridgeline, climb to higher ground, and watch for our chance to make it to the gate without being seen. The main thing is to keep moving. There are too many of them for us to fight off."

"Can't we just hole up somewhere and hide?" McKay asked. "This is an uninhabited planet, and once they see that, they'll leave. We can just wait them out."

I stared at McKay, wondering how a certified genius, as he is so quick to point out, could be so damn stupid. Evidentially Sheppard thought so, too.

"Once they stumble across the patch and our sensors they will know there are people here," Sheppard explained slowly. "Then they'll search until they find us. Now, let's move."

As we worked our way deeper into the woods, I approached Teyla.

"I'm getting the feeling that these Bola Kai dudes are bad news," I said. "But who are they?"

"The Bola Kai are a nomadic tribe," she replied, not taking her eyes off the surrounding forest. "There are many clans scattered across the galaxy, and they prey on other peoples to survive. They are rapists, murderers, and cannibals, and not necessarily in that order. My people fear them only second to the Wraith."

"If they're so bad off that they're eating people to survive, why don't they just ask others for help?"

"Some people are just born evil," Ronon called back. Teyla frowned slightly at that, but didn't argue.

We came across the first Bola Kai a few minutes later. There were two of them, large, tattooed, and covered in badly cured furs so rank that we smelled them before we saw them. Sheppard, Ronon, and Teyla took position behind some trees, while McKay and I ducked under some bushes.

They came around a pile of boulders, and my attention was immediately caught by their weapons. They were crude things made up of sharpened stone and salvaged metal, and they were utterly terrifying. Black blood stained the ugly axes and knives, and one held a spear adorned with a long red braid. Bits of scalp still clung to the matted hair. To my eyes, they looked eight feet tall, with shoulders like a linebacker. I know in reality they were not much bigger than Sheppard, and not near Ronon's size, but at that moment they were giants. Beside me, McKay's eyes were wide, but to my surprise, he remained silent and still, not even a tremble to rustle the leaves.

Sheppard slowly raised his gun, and Teyla made a quick gesture and shook her head. She pulled a fuck-all big dagger from her hip and nodded to Ronon, who plucked a smaller one from his hair. All potential thoughts of running my hands through his dreads were snuffed out of existence, never to return.

Teyla's knife took the first Bola Kai in the heart; Ronon's buried itself in the other's throat. Both men dropped without a sound. Unfortunately, none of the team expected a third to come sauntering around the boulders. Sheppard raised his gun but hesitated, not wanting the shots to alert the other warriors. That hesitation gave the guy the chance to high-tail it back the way he came. Ronon threw another knife, but only managed to shave some fur off the warrior's sleeve.

"We need to leave now," Sheppard ordered. "They'll sound the alert any minute."

McKay and I scrambled out from under the bushes and followed the others further into the woods. Sure enough, within minutes deep drum beats echoed across the valley. Now, I'm no coward, but the sound of those drums chilled my blood. I fought the instinct to freeze in place like a rabbit and hope the hunters passed me by. The grim look on Ronon's face didn't do a thing to reassure me. If Conan the Satedan was worried, well, I'd bet money we were screwed.

We reached the base of the ridge, and Ronon halted our run with a soft whistle. I leaned casually against a tree, pretending I wasn't as out of shape as I really was. Apparently the occasional jog to the supply depot doesn't in any way compare to fleeing from cannibal necrophiliacs.

"The cover farther up is too sparse," Ronon said to Sheppard. He wasn't even breathing hard, the bastard.

"He is right," Teyla agreed. "Had the Bola Kai not been alerted we may have escaped notice, but not now that they are actively seeking us."

"We can't stay in the valley," Sheppard mused, running his hand through his near faux-hawk. "We need to get to the other side of this ridge. We'll have to go the long way, along the base to the top of the waterfall."

"There's a trail around to the other side of the ridge?" I asked. "I mean, I recall a very steep drop to the valley below, but I didn't notice a trail." Sheppard grinned wolfishly.

"We'll find out, won't we?" he replied. I considered shooting him and leaving him for the cannibals, but Major Perry had confiscated my firearms after the potato incident with Kavanagh, and won't give them back until he's safely off base.

The run through the forest was tense as hell. I kept expecting the vikings from hell to burst through the trees and catch us. I've seen the cannibal episode of Xena- I am _not_ going out that way. Ronon took the lead, while Teyla dropped back to cover the rear. Sheppard took position beside me on the logic that as the least armed person I was the most vulnerable. I'm pretty good with a chef's knife, as Kavanagh will attest to, but I doubt I'd be much of a challenge to Sawney Bean's Pegasus cousins.

We were almost to the falls when a group of Bola Kai caught up to us. They came out of the shadows with loud shouts and gore-encrusted weapons held high. Sheppard shoved me behind him, and to my shock McKay pulled his weapon and put himself between my back and the warrior that had circled behind us. The team didn't bother with stealth this time; they opened fire immediately. The sound of gunfire was deafening, a blessing since it meant I didn't hear the screaming of the Bola Kai as they fell. One warrior dropped to the ground with his chest a mass of shredded meat, but kept crawling forward, his bloody mouth wide in an unheard scream. I stared in horror as he dragged himself toward me, still brandishing his hatchet. I tugged at Sheppard's jacket, but he was focused on bringing down a particularly evasive warrior. The wounded man had nearly made it to my feet when his head exploded in a burst of gunfire. Blood and brain matter splattered my lower body, and I looked up to find Teyla already turning away, firing on the last standing warrior. He fell quickly, and Sheppard grabbed my shoulders.

"Are you okay?" he shouted over the ringing in my ears.

"Yeah, fine." I'm covered in Bola Kai; do I look like I'm fucking okay?!

"Good, let's move," he said. "They know our position now."

He took the lead, and we followed him to the edge of the woods. A quick look revealed a group of Bola Kai at the far end of the valley, thankfully watching the treeline. We scuttled to the thick foliage at the edge of the ridge, and took a good look at our so-called escape route. The ridge had gone from tree covered earth to bare rock some way back, and ended in a sheer drop to the valley far, far below. There was no trail, and no way around.

"Well, that's unfortunate," Sheppard said calmly. "Could be worse, though."

"Unfortunate?" I hissed incredulously. "This whole situation goes way beyond 'unfortunate'! This is a curse. Your whole damn team is cursed. That's the only explanation. I've met people who sexually abuse albatrosses for fun and profit who have better luck than you people!"

"What's an albatross?" Ronon asked. I ignored him.

"Hey, it's not that bad," Sheppard grinned. "See, there's our trail right there." He pointed to a series of narrow ridges jutting from the cliff face. "See, we'll just inch our way across. It's a pretty short distance to the other side. We'll be across in no time."

"And why would anyone want to sexually abuse one for fun?" Ronon continued.

"It'll be fun," Sheppard concluded, patting my shoulder.

And that was when I realized Sheppard is clinically insane.


End file.
